


for everything a reason

by thatfire



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfire/pseuds/thatfire
Summary: "He wondered what we could have been.” He paused and licked his suddenly dry lips, forcing the words out. “I said I had wondered the same.”Tarben’s eyes went wide before closing, his head turning to the side as his hands clenched on his elbows. “I see. Is this you ending things between us?”-Eivor returns to Ravensthorpe after Snotinghamscire and must tell Tarben what happened with Vili.Sequel tochildhood's end
Relationships: Eivor/Tarben (Assassin's Creed), Male Eivor/Tarben (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	for everything a reason

**Author's Note:**

> accidentally wrote a sequel to 'childhood's end'  
> i tried to get Norse terms right but i couldn't remember what was used in game.  
> also the smut is recycled from one of my old fics so if you recognise some of it, no you don't 💕

Ravensthorpe is quiet when the longship finally docked. 

Eivor found himself staring at the full moon in the dark sky from his perch at the helm. He hardly felt the chill of air blowing off of the river, too lost is his thoughts of what had transpired in Snotinghamscire. There was guilt, that he was sure of, perhaps fear as well, of what he might have lost, of the future and what was to come. But mostly he feared of what Tarben would say, if this would be the thing that broke them. Not the distance, but childhood loves and past wants. He wasn’t sure he would do if that was woven into fate.

He was jolted out of his thoughts suddenly when Rollo clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Coming, Wolf-Kissed?”

Eivo shook his head. “I’ll be along shortly. Go, rest, drink.”

Rollo gave him a long look, and Eivor held his gaze, unsure of what he was looking for, perhaps reassurance that Eivor wasn’t going to drink himself into a pit or run off by himself again. They had grown close since Rollo had joined Ravensthorpe, the two spending time sharing stories of their battles and victories over mead and during raids. Rollo must have found whatever it was he was looking for, as he eventually nodded and turned away, heading to the barracks, but not before giving Eivor one last worried look that Eivor tried to shake off.

Alone, he bent down and reached beneath the small ledge until his hand bumped soft fur. Nali, the small white cat he’d recruited in Northwic, purred and butted against his hand until he scratched under his chin. Eivor rubbed his ears gently, thumbing away grit and sighed deeply. 

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to get off of the longship, the walk to the longhouse feeling impossibly far and imposing. He didn’t want to face Sigurd’s dark looks or Randvi’s longing gazes, but didn’t want to disturb Tarben at the late hour either, or have to have that much needed conversation. Perhaps staying right where he was wouldn’t be so bad, he was could make space next to Nali or perhaps-

“Are you going to stay there all night, love?”

Or perhaps not.

Eivor looked up and smiled tiredly, giving one last scratch to Nali’s back.

“Tarben, what are you doing awake?”

Tarben moved closer, steps heavy on the wood. “Your crew are loud enough to rouse the dead. And...” He looked to the side. “I was getting an early start with tomorrow's bread.”

Eivor laughed softly and finally stepped onto the docks. “And here I thought you lay awake waiting for me.” He couldn’t help but say, their familiar comfort of Tarben settling into his bones despite the ache in his chest.

Tarben nudged him gently with an elbow, and the two began to walk away from the ship. “Perhaps. You’ll never know for sure.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Eivor lost in thought, and Tarben comfortable in the quiet. Their arms and hands brushed with each step until they reached the divide in the path between Tarben’s home and the way to the longhouse, and Eivor turned, not sure what to say but knowing he needed to break the silence, when Tarben beat him to it

“I know you must be tired, and should report back to Randvi, but if you are willing my home and bed are open to you.”

Eivor breathed deeply, looking into Tarben’s dark and kind eyes. He so badly wanted to say yes, to follow him to the bakers house that felt more like home than his room in the longhouse did, but despite his previous reservations of facing Randvi and Sigurd, he knew he couldn’t follow Tarben, not now, not until he fixed his thoughts.

“I-” He looked down at his feet. “I need to report to Randvi. I’m sorry, perhaps tomorrow?”

He felt Tarben let out a small sigh, perhaps in disappointment, before a warm hand reached out and cupped his hand. “Of course my love, come by whenever you’re ready. Just be sure to rest, no going off on more adventures until you’ve slept.”

Eivor nodded, the guilt feeling heavier in his stomach at Tarben’s understanding and caring. He lent up, going on the balls of his feet until he could brush a gentle kiss against Tarben’s plush mouth, lingering a moment to take in the smell of bread and the heat from his body. He sighed as Tarben returned the kiss, his hands reaching out to steady Eivor until they both needed air.

With one final kiss to the corner of Tarben’s mouth, Eivor fell back to the ground and took a step back. He made himself turn and begin to head towards the longhouse, knowing that if he stayed any longer he wouldn’t be able to go. With his head down and shoulders hunched, he was all too aware of Tarben’s worried gaze burning into his back, right until he was no longer in sight.

Tomorrow. He would tell him tomorrow.

***

Tomorrow came too quickly.

Randvi had been awake when he’d made it to the longhouse, and he’d reported to her quickly, eager to get his report out of the way. She’d tried to start conversation, asking him of his travels and of Vili, but he’d answered in short sentences, painfully aware of Sigurd leaning against the door, the dark shadows underneath his eyes, and the knowing look he’d given Eivor at the mention of Vili’s name. 

She’d given up quick enough, had shooed him away to his room and told him to get some sleep, that they could speak again in the morning and decide where to go next then. He had left briskly, after nodding and wishing them both a good night and had fallen into his bed after only taking the top layers of armour off, uncaring of grime and dirt. 

He had been awoken at sunrise by Dwolfg running her wet and cold nose across the side of his face, her heavy paws resting against his chest, and he’d stayed there for a long moment, absently petting her matted fur as he stared at the ceiling, knowing that he had to talk to Tarben. 

He had faced kings and battles and death, but it was this that threatened to overwhelm him, the fear of losing one he held so close, not through battle or glory, but through his own feelings, his own almost mistake.

When he’d finally forced himself out of bed, Dwolfg had followed behind him as he walked to the nearby waterfall to clean, and back to the longhouse for food. She’d remained his shadow while he spoke to Randvi and walked with him down the hill to Tarben’s bakery where he stood now. She’d settled next to the door, curling into a ball, her head resting on her paws while her eyes flicked between him and the door, as if urging him to finally go in. 

“Alright, I’m going. Wish my luck, girl.” He ruffled the fur between her ears and took a deep breath before he pushed the door open.

Tarben was there as he almost always was, a smudge of flour on his cheek and his hands busy kneading a soon to be loaf of bread. His shoulders had relaxed from their unusual tenseness as Eivor stepped completely into the room. 

“Hello, love. I was wondering if you were going to stay out there all day.”

Eivor found himself flushing in embarrassment at having been caught, “I’m sorry, I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts.”

Tarben paused his kneading and looked at Eivor, his brow furrowed in worry.

“Did something happen?”

Eivor half shrugged and shook his head at the same time, “I need to tell you something.”

“That sounds serious, what is it?” Placing the bread in a nearby bowl, Tarben turned his full attention on Eivor, and while it usually filled him with warmth, now it made him want to squirm and run away.

Eivor took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes focused somewhere on Tarben’s chest.

“You know that I went to Snotinghamscire?” He asked, continuing at Tarben’s hum of confirmation. “An old friend was there, someone from my childhood. His father had written the letter in his name, knowing I would go. He was dying, and he wanted me to help Vili, my friend, come to terms with becoming _ Jarl _ in his passing. He died not long after.”

“I’m sorry, love. Is-”

He cut Tarben off, not able to deal with his comfort or gentle eyes, “That’s not what I needed to tell you.”

Tarben frowned and crossed his arms, mimicking Eivor’s pose. “Go on.”

“Vili was stricken with grief and didn’t want to become  _ Jarl _ . He got himself into some trouble, like he always does, and I helped him out of it. It wasn’t anything too difficult, but after, we took refuge in a nearby cave and he… he confessed something to me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eivor could see Tarben straighten, something like resignation flitting across his face, and the guilt threatened to consume Eivor, but he made himself make eye contact, laid everything bare. 

“He admitted that he wanted me. Romantically, or for a night. I don’t know. He said he had since we were in our youth. He wondered what we could have been.” He paused and licked his suddenly dry lips, forcing the words out. “I said I had wondered the same.”

Tarben’s eyes went wide before closing, his head turning to the side as his hands clenched on his elbows. “I see. Is this you ending things between us?”

“No!” Eivor almost shouted, taking a half step towards Tarben. “No.” He said again, quieter, but firmly. 

“Then I do not understand. If something happened between you, I would prefer to know now.”

“Nothing happened, I promise. I thought of you, of us, of how you made me feel. I told him no, that we couldn’t be together.” He let out a self deprecating laugh. “I spent the rest of the night telling him of you. He even wished to meet you one day.”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, but Eivor noticed that Tarben had relaxed his stance a little, and felt hope slowly begin to unfurl in his chest.

“Is this why you wouldn’t come back here, last night?” Tarben asked, eventually.

Eivor nodded. “I felt… guilty. For a moment I considered it. I had wanted him for so long back when I was young. I’d always hoped we would have  _ something _ and there he was, confessing he felt the same, but I couldn’t.” He looked directly at Tarben then, pleading for him to believe him. “I didn’t  _ want _ to. Why would I? I have you. Or at least I did.”

Tarben tilted his head, still a little guarded but that familiar kindness was coming back. “Did?”

“I didn’t think you’d still want me. I know our distance has been hard, and I… I wouldn’t blame you if this only added to that. If you no longer wished to be with me.” Eivor said, and held his breath. It all came down to this.

Tarben shook his head, and Eivor felt his heart fall to his stomach before he heard a laugh. 

“Of course I still want you. I…” He became almost bashful, and rubbed the back of his head, smudging flour through his messy bun. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make me not want you. Even if that makes me a fool.”

“Are you.. Are you sure?” Eivor asked in disbelief, barely daring to believe they could be okay.

Tarben rolled his head from side to side, “I am. But I will admit that I am worried that I’m making you choose a side. That you’ll regret what you’ve let go. Again.”

Eivor took a step forward, standing until he was in arms reach of Tarben. “You’re not making me choose.  _ I  _ chose you. I want you, only you, for as long as you’ll have me, for as long as the  _ Norns _ see it fit to keep me on this earth.”

Tarben looked at him and Eivor laid himself bare, letting him see whatever he needed to, hoping against anything that he hadn’t lost this. In that moment he was more sure of his love for Tarben than he had ever been before. He was not unconvinced that he wouldn’t fight the very gods to remain by his side, be it in  _ Valhalla _ or on  _ Midgard _ , to see that familiar smile and those dark eyes for eternity. 

Finally, Tarben cracked a smile, and while it was brittle around the edges and his eyes were a little wet, it was real. “And they say you are not a romantic.”

“I would tell all who would listen of our love if it would reassure you, Tarben.”

Tarben laughed, a real, warm laugh and Eivor felt his face cracking into a smile. “Let’s start with Randvi and Sigurd first, and then we can see about telling the others.”

Eivor stepped closer, until his feet nudged against Tarbens, and his hands settled on the ties around his waist. “Randvi already knows, Sigurd too probably. I haven’t exactly been subtle about my visits to see you.”

Tarben huffed a laugh as he reached out and stroked the sharp line of Eivor’s jaw beneath his bear, thumbing at the scruff and his bottom lip until Eivor couldn’t take it any longer.

“Come here.” He said gruffly, and tugged until Tarben lent down, their lips meeting in a kiss that started slow and soft, sweet like honey before Eivor nipped at his bottom lip and Tarben let out something like a growl. 

He pulled Eivor impossibly close and his hands moved to tug at Eivor’s braids. Eivor let out a deep groan, hungry for anything Tarben would give him, even as he began tugging at their clothes, undoing clasps and knots, desperate to feel the bare warmth of skin on skin. 

Eventually he had to pull back to breathe, but he used the moment to pull off his cloak and armour, urging Tarben to do the same. He walked backwards to the bed as he stripped, Tarben following along until he was only in his  _ brokr _ . Eivor let himself fall back onto the palette, pushing aside fur throws and pillows, and spread his legs. He held eye contact with Tarben, who stood between his feet, chest flushed and cock already staining the front of the fabric covering his crotch. 

“Come here,” Eivor said again, voice low. “Let me show you how much I care for you.”

***

Tarben’s hands were big and warm on Eivor’s hips, smoothing across the skin and running up his sides, like he couldn’t stop himself from touching and causing goosebumps to rise across Eivor’s skin, his muscles bunching and jumping under his fingertips. 

It’s the first time they’ve done it like this. Eivor had pushed Tarben onto his back, making sure he was comfortable and settled, kissing any skin he could reach. He’d climbed into his lap not long after, and run his hands through the hair on his chest, up to this neck until he had to bend down to kiss him again, Tarben welcoming him eagerly. They’d stayed like that for what could have been several moons, kissing and grinding, hands travelling over flushed skin and new scars. It wasn’t until Eivor could no longer stand the emptiness, that he’d pushed their bottle of oil into Tarbens hands and begged for him to open him up. 

He’d been thorough as always, using thick fingers and a palmful of oil to slick them both up. He’d made sure Eivor was ready, kissing him firmly when he’d become almost overwhelmed until finally Eivor had nudged Tarben’s hand away and reached back with his own. He’d held his cock steady and rocked back, breath punched out of him and eyes fluttering shut as Tarben groaned and urged him to go slowly. 

He had tried, at first, easing himself down before lifting up, waiting and rocking back down against Tarben, almost smiling at the look of awe on Tarben’s face, the way his eyes kept flitting between where they were joined and Eivor’s eyes. He had to pause eventually, and leaned down until he could kiss Tarben, hating being so far away as their noses brushed against each other. 

He tried to say something, something meaningful and poetic to make Tarben understand what he was feeling, but it felt like  _ Jörmungandr  _ was squeezing tight around his chest and all he could breathe out was “ _ Tarben _ …”

And Tarben nodded and nudged their foreheads together, hands clenching where he still held onto Eivor’s hips. “I know, love.” And snapped his hips up at the same moment he’d clashed their mouths together, teeth knocking and causing Eivor to moan.

Eivor lost it, curved his arm behind Tarben’s head and tangled his fingers in the now loose bun, fingers clenching with each thrust and roll of their hips each time he fucked himself back down.

The air around them was hot, almost suffocating, and Eivor’s thighs were already beginning to burn, his hair sticking to his forehead. Tarben’s hands felt almost clammy against his skin, moving from his hips to run across the bumps of his spine and back again, reverent, like he was worshiping him even though it was meant to be the other way around.

Eivor lifted his head and bit at Tarben’s chest, trying to muffle his groans. He soothed the skin over with his tongue, grinning when Tarben stuttered a half moan, half laugh in his throat. Leaning back he grappled for purchase on Tarben’s thighs, and flexed his hips, aware of the wet slap of his cock hitting his stomach with each bounce, and the wide eyed look on his baker's flushed face. 

One of Tarben’s large hands stroked up his thigh, nails clenching into the delicate skin and Eivor let his head fall back, eyes sliding shut as he circled his hips. There was a low moan bumbling in his chest that escaped when Tarben started to fuck into him, rhythm strong but faltering as Eivor clenched around him.

Eivor hovered in an almost haze, between the feeling of Tarben’s cock and  _ Tarben _ , until he felt a warm hand around his cock, fingers tight and soft, and Eivor let his head loll forward lazily and looked down into Tarben’s dark eyes.

“Let me see you.” Tarben whispered, thumb flicking just underneath the head of Eivor’s cock as he twisted his hips just _ right _ .

“Not before you.” Eivor managed to say, breathless and something warm curled his chest when Tarben’s mouth dropped open, eyes crinkling at the sides.

Tarben hummed gently and lifted his head, reaching forward until Eivor let himself fall forward again eagerly, their mouths meeting in something sweet and slow, almost lazy, if not for the way their hips moved together.

Eivor’s hand raised between them until he could rest his palm against Tarben’s throat, thumb stroking the small hollow dip of his neck as he raised his hips. Tarben’s hand clenched around his cock just as he fucked his hips up, cock catching against Eivor’s prostate and Eivor went rigid, teeth nipping at Tarben’s already swollen bottom lip.

“ _ Bacraut _ .” Eivor gasped and Tarben grinned, unoffended. 

Eivor’s rhythm began to slip, trying to rock between Tarben’s hand and his cock. Their kisses became messy, trading biting, sloppy kisses to necks and chins, caught between wanting to come and wanting to drag it out for eternity. His cock was sticky and slick against Tarben’s hand, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

“Please, let me see you, love.” Tarben murmured, sounding awed and reverent. He twisted his hand and flicked his thumb over the head of Eivor’s cock and Eivor let go, bowing forward and pushing himself back onto Tarben’s cock. He groaned deep in his throat and bit at Tarben’s collarbone, shaking a little even as Tarben’s hips stilled and his hands smoothed against his hips and back and arms.

Still shaking he managed to push himself up and looked directly into Tarben’s eyes as he rocked his hips gently back and forth. “Let me feel you, make me yours, Tarben.  _ Please _ .”

And Tarben did, head tipping back against the pillows as he groaned, hips jolting up once, twice, before he stilled, chest flushed and rising rapidly. There was a happy grin on his face and Eivor brushed a kiss against the corner of his lips as he lifted up and away, too sensitive to be filled for much longer. 

He fell onto the bed next to Tarben, curling into his side and stroking his hand down his chest until their breathing slowed, limbs heavy and sated. Tarben raised a hand to stroke down Eivor’s back, absently brushing away sweat slick hair as they simply stared at each other, content. 

“Do you believe me?” Eivor asked a few moments later. “That I am yours, just as you are mine?” And he held his breath as Tarben looked at him, his face softening. 

“Aye, love. I believe you.” He said, and buried his face in Eivor’s hair, brushing a barely there kiss against his forehead a moment later.

And Eivor finally let himself relax. The guilt and worry from the last few faded away as he pressed one last kiss to Tarben’s chest. He reached for the furs he pushed to the floor earlier and covered them both with it, shielding them from the cold air and thrum of responsibilities that awaited them. 

For now he curled closer, listening to Tarben’s heartbeat as it slowed into sleep and let himself rest. 

They would be okay. He would make sure of it. 


End file.
